


The Darkest Evening

by feverbeats



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-12
Updated: 2010-06-12
Packaged: 2017-10-10 02:18:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/94141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feverbeats/pseuds/feverbeats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Outside my cell, something is hungry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Darkest Evening

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening" by Robert Frost.

  
I've been in this damn prison for three days and my throat is getting raw. I'm not screaming, although that's all the rage in here. I've been laughing and laughing and it never stops being funny that I didn't fucking see it coming.

It's mostly a pity about the bloody motorbike.

They were so still, James and Lily. I never saw James stop moving before, not even when he was asleep. His eyes were still open. I've been trying to think about something else, but I can't. I haven't been able to for three days. There isn't room.

It's been a week. It's been seven days. Seven days and I still feel like there's blood all over me. A baby was crying. Lily's beautiful green eyes were open, too. James was—

It's been two weeks. They've taken my fiancé. I can't remember his name, but I remember his face. I remember the scars on his sides. I remember his teeth.

It's been three weeks. I don't remember their names anymore, only their faces. My friends. The stag and the girl. The baby.

Oh Merlin, the baby.

I can still remember Snivellus, and I suppose I should be thankful for that. The memory of him will keep me company in here inside these four black walls.

Thinking of Snape reminds me of someone I've tried to forget since I was twelve. He's been gone for a while, though. He's probably rotting by now.

Outside my cell, something is hungry. That reminds me of someone, but I can't remember who.

Finally, all that's left is _him_. I don't remember what meat tastes like or what it feels like to hold someone's hand, only that I'm angry, furiously angry, and that I won't rest until I find him and rip his throat out.

It's been a month. I'm not alone anymore. It's filling up in here. Getting crowded.

Bellatrix is here. She's magnificent, and she's not screaming. I wonder if she knows what I did.

"Sirius," she whispers from her cell. The Dementors don't like us to talk to each other, but that won't stop us. No, we're Blacks, and we don't follow their rules.

I can't see her, only hear her. She's in here with her idiot husband and his brother, and someone else I don't know. I think he was a friend of someone I knew, but I've lost that as well.

I have miles to go, bloody miles, and I'm so damn tired and angry. I curl up on the floor of my cell, paws over my nose, and then I realize: I'm no longer human. For the first time since I've been in here, I feel a spark of hope.

I reach out experimentally, trying to remember names. I focus on the scars, but there's nothing else there, not even when I'm in this form. There is something, though: _Wormtail. Peter._ I can remember his damn name well enough.

"Sirius," I hear Bella whisper.

I transform quickly and feel the despair welling up again. "What do you want?" I whisper back, my voice rough and harsh. I'm not inclined to let her find out my secrets, even now.

As though she's read my mind, she mutters, "It won't be long, dear cousin. You'll start spilling your guts. They all do, I hear." She laughs.

I have some secrets, though, that are too important to ever let slip. I squeeze my eyes shut. _I solemnly swear—_


End file.
